Harry Potter and the Tigers' Wrath
by roisaber
Summary: The British government loses control of a military experiment, and it threatens the safety of everyone at Hogwarts. Will Harry and his friends be able to put a stop to the runaways before something bad happens?


The pilot of the 747 snored gently in his chair, while his copilot browsed pornography on his Microsoft Surface Pro Windows tablet PC. You don't care about their names so I won't even bother; you're here to read about Harry Potter, aren't you? Did you know the copilot is happily married, and his daughter is going to graduate from kindergarten this Friday? No, you didn't, and you don't care either. So you know what? Just forget it.

In the brave new world of modern technology, an aircraft's flight computer does everything but wipe the pilots' asses for them after they take a shit. The copilot instinctively licked his finger before flipping the photo to the next in his porno photo album. They were on a routine delivery flight, carrying unspecified military hardware to RAF Leuchars in Scotland. The civilian contractor that employed the pair didn't ask, and the British military didn't tell what was contained in the mysterious crates loaded into the aircraft's pressurized cargo bay. Neither of them was watching the sky but it probably wouldn't have done them any good if they had – the MI-6 surveillance drone was invisible to radar, and it would have only briefly appeared as a small grey dart in the sky, giving them little opportunity to maneuver. As it was, they crashed right into it.

"Oh shit!" the copilot cried as the drone's wing tore open the hull of the cockpit.

Air roared in their ears as the cabin rapidly depressurized. Hyperventilating, the pilot and copilot reached above their respective heads and secured the oxygen masks that would provide them with life-giving air while they tried to regain control of the aircraft. The aerodynamics were shot, and even both of them working in tandem could only manage get the plane into a jerky, deadly barrel roll. It was a marginal improvement over plummeting nose-first into the ground, but still nothing to write home about. The flight computer howled in complaint.

"WHOOP WHOOP, pull up," it unhelpfully suggested. "WHOOP WHOOP, pull up. WHOOP WHOOP, pull up."

"Shut the fuck up!" the copilot thought but didn't scream, desperately trying to conserve dwindling oxygen supplies.

The pilot's eyes were wide with terror. The pair manhandled the aircraft into a controlled crash, and watched helplessly as the altimeter ticked down the feet until impact with the hard, unforgiving soil. They were going approximately three hundred miles an hour, and a belly landing at that speed would tear the craft to pieces. Most of the flaps and fins weren't responding to the controls; somewhere deep in the plane's belly, vital control mechanisms must have been severed by the collision with the civilian surveillance drone. The copilot could swear that he heard angry roars coming from behind the bulkhead door, but that had to be his overtaxed imagination, right?

As the pair struggled with the disobedient controls, the plane continued to rattle its way towards the earth. They were able to reduce the stricken craft's airspeed little by little, and with a sudden surge of emotion, the copilot realized they might make it.

"WHOOP WHOOP, pull up. WHOOP WHOOP, pull up," the flight computer continued to insist.

The copilot didn't bother taking his hands off the helm long enough to turn off the incessant alarm.

The altimeter continued to spin downward, less wildly. Six hundred feet… five hundred feet… The pilot's hands were greasy with sweat, and the copilot was ashamed to realize that he'd wet himself in uncontrollable terror. It was just like sixth form all over again. Then, with a teeth rattling impact, the aircraft gracelessly bellyflopped into the rich loam of the British countryside.

The copilot felt as though an elephant stepped on his chest, and he momentarily passed out from the sudden deceleration. When he awoke, all the plane's lights and systems were completely dead, including the emergency cabin lights that weren't supposed to fail under any conceivable circumstance short of total vaporization of the aircraft. He felt a thick, heavy liquid in his throat, and he coughed blood onto the dead control panel in front of him. The copilot could tell that he had numerous broken ribs, internal hemorrhaging, and a shattered clavicle; he knew that if he didn't receive medical attention forthwith, he'd never see his wife and daughter again. He coughed up another gob of sticky blood, and painfully turned to face the pilot, a recent but fast friend.

"Harry?" the copilot gasped through his agony.

The pilot didn't answer.

The copilot leaned back, closed his eyes, and prayed to Jesus that help would arrive in time. When he reopened them, he saw two wide, glittering orbs. He felt a sharp pain in his throat and then nothing more.

"Just try it!" Luna insisted.

"I don't know," Hermione answered dubiously. "The headmaster says - "

Luna interrupted, "Damn and blast what the headmaster says! He's an old fuddy duddy. One puff never hurt anybody; learn to live a little already!"

Hermione looked at the cannabis cigarette, and weighed her options. It wasn't like a Gryffindor to disobey the instructions of a respected authority, but still, Luna had a point. Was she really going to go to her grave without even trying cannabis once?

"Sheesh, just give it a go," Luna urged. "It's safer than alcohol and cigarettes, and you'll have a good time, honest."

Weasley objected, "Oh, come off it Luna! If she doesn't want to try it she hasn't got to. It just means more for the rest of us."

That settled it for Hermione. If Ron Weasley was going to patronizingly defend her for not trying a little puff, she was going to damn well do it and show them who the fuddy duddy wasn't. Hermione reached out and took it from Luna, and she took a big drag before her lungs erupted with uncontrollable coughing. Luna, Weasley, and Ginny all laughed at her good naturedly.

"Come off it," Hermione rasped through her pain.

The feeling was mildly unpleasant, at first. Hermione's lungs and throat burned, and the herb conveyed a cloying, sticky flavor that reminded her of a sweet left for too long in a pocket. For a few minutes, she didn't feel anything, so she stuck out her tongue at Luna. The other girl only giggled. When the joint returned Hermione took another bold drag. This time it settled into her lungs without much complaint.

"Oh, look at you!" Weasley said teasingly. "You're a regular pothead now."

"Give her a break, Ron," Ginny objected while taking a practiced hit from the joint.

Hermione finally started to feel the effects of the herb. It was a strange feeling; not anything like what she'd expected. Hermione had been drunk a few times in her life, with wine secreted from the supplies of faculty who guessed at the theft but thought it best to carefully ignore, but the sensation was nothing like that at all. Hermione realized why people who were good and stoned described themselves as feeling "high." The strong sativa blend seemed to draw her up into her head, as though she were a little person inside her skull looking out through her own eyes… suddenly she heard her own thoughts and giggled.

"I think it's getting to her," Luna said dreamily.

"How do you feel, Hermione?" asked Ginny.

"I feel… I don't know. It's just like everything's shapes."

Ron laughed. "She's mental."

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked distantly.

"Oh, he's off with Hagrid, finding mushrooms for supper," Ginny answered. "You know _he'd_ never approve. He's so straight laced, even for a Gryffindor!"

The others laughed at Ginevra's easy humor at her own expense, and the joint made another pass around the circle. Luna conjured an undulating, dancing globule of light, and the four watched it as it morphed, split, and reabsorbed its wandering fragments. Hermione started waxing philosophical.

"What if there was a world without magic?" she asked.

"A world without magic?" Luna made a face. "Sounds dystopian."

Ron replied vaingloriously, "A world without magic is totally impossible. It'd be against the laws of physics."

"But what if there _was_?" Hermione insisted.

Meanwhile, the crashed aircraft's deadly cargo tenuously explored its surroundings. The plane was carrying five tigers, genetically modified brutes painstakingly developed by the British government to serve as hunter-trackers for the Special Forces' wetwork in India. Unfortunately, they'd been found unfit for duty; they were mindlessly vicious and resisted all attempts at being trained or domesticated. The genes for their musculature and aggression had been amped up far beyond what had been intended by the long process of evolution, and they were cruel, cunning, and utterly without mercy. Like sadistic housecats, they would kill even when they were not hungry; they would kill simply for the joy of killing. And now, they were loose on the British countryside. One sniffed the air, and with a ferocious growl, the group started heading into a dense, foggy forest where it had no business to be.

"Hagrid! What about this one?"

Hagrid peered at the mushroom Harry was offering, and then laughed with uproarious mirth.

"No, not that one, lad. Here." Hagrid carefully bruised the flesh of the mushroom with his fingers, and then showed it to Harry. "See? It turned blue."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, peering at the little fungus.

"It means if you eat it, you'll have a _very_ interesting eight hours," Hagrid answered.

The towering half-giant casually threw the psychedelic mushroom into the bushes of the Forbidden Forest, where it was eaten by a bunny who went on to have a _very_ interesting eight hours. Harry and Hagrid continued onward. The hulking, hairy beast of a man believed it beneficial to educate Harry into as much herbal lore as possible, to go with his extensive studies in spellcasting, chemistry, and, of course, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"You never know what you need to know until you need to know it," Hagrid mumbled aloud.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Oh, nothing, lad. Nothing. Just an insane old man babbling to himself."

Harry had long suspected that Hagrid actually _was_ insane, and he added another tick to his mental checklist on the subject.

"When will we be returning to the castle?" Harry asked.

"Soon, soon," Hagrid replied. "It's not as if there's anything strange about a bearded old man taking a boy out in the woods, alone, is there?"

Harry inwardly rolled his eyes. "Of course not."

Suddenly, the pair heard a rustle in the bushes ahead of them. Hagrid smiled broadly, wondering what woodland creature he was going to meet next. Harry stood to the side with his hand on his wand – he wasn't as trusting as Hagrid when it came to mysterious rustlings in the creepy forest that surrounded Hogwarts. The rustling stopped.

"What was that, Hagrid?" Harry asked warily.

The half-giant sniffed the air.

"Hmm," he admitted. "I'm not sure. I've never smelled anything like that in these woods, before. But it smelled faintly feline… and ferocious."

Harry shook his head and kept his hand on the hilt of his wand. Without warning, he was knocked to the ground by a massive weight slamming into his back. The young man screamed as he felt sharp claws easily tear through his thin cloak and rend open skin and muscle. He dropped his wand, which went skittering across the dirt of the thick, foggy forest. Meanwhile, Hagrid roared with imperious fury.

"You stop that right now, y'hear!?" the half-giant demanded.

The genetically modified tiger looked up at him while Harry struggled below, and Hagrid was stopped dead in his tracks by the look in the tiger's eyes. It was like nothing he'd seen before in a wild animal. It wasn't hunger, or fury, or even the kind of sadism that drives a cat to maul a mouse but leave its body uneaten. It was something far, far darker. The two empty pupils gazed back at him from hazel irises. The tiger knew neither lust, nor hunger, nor fear. It was already dead inside, and it wanted nothing but to communicate that death to others, universally and without discrimination. It was a void-breathing void that sought nothing from the universe but to consume and extinguish everything. It was evangelical nihilism; more catholic and pure than that of He Who Shall Not Be Named himself. Hagrid stood rooted to the spot.

The tiger casually ripped open Harry's lower back with its claws, eliciting a shriek of agony from the stricken boy. Hagrid watched helplessly as the tiger climbed off of his first victim and then advanced, and the half-giant was hypnotized by the cold, lifeless eyes of the genetically engineered predator. Without any hint of effort, the tiger swiped at Hagrid with its right claw, tearing open the half-giant's belly and spilling viscera on the forest floor. Finally released from the beast's hypnotic gaze, Hagrid screamed, and reached down to helplessly clutch at his leaking entrails. Harry, groaning with agony and crippled from the waist down from the tiger's merciless strike, slowly pulled himself towards his wand on the strength of his arms alone. The boy felt blood welling up from the deep gashes in his back, spilling into the soil. The tiger paused to let out a triumphant roar. To the horror of Harry and Hagrid alike, its roar was answered by four others in the distance.

"Come on," Hermione urged through the hazy smoke clouding Luna's dorm room. "It's your turn!"

Luna blinked. She was incredibly stoned.

"What was the question again?" the blonde girl asked in confusion.

"Truth, or _dare_?" Hermione demanded.

Luna considered this.

"Truth," she finally answered.

The four heard a series of roars in the distance, and they looked at one another and giggled.

Harry vomited into the soil ahead of him, and he didn't dare look up. He could hear the sickening sound of Hagrid's body being torn to pieces by the insane brute, and Hagrid's cries were reduced to blood-choked gurgles. Harry was almost overwhelmed with agony, but he continued to crawl forward to where his wand had been knocked from his hand. He triumphantly wrapped his hand around the thin shaft, and lifted it to aim at the nightmare attacking his mentor.

"C-confringo," the boy groaned.

His wand obediently erupted, spraying a blast of fire towards the ravaging animal. His shot went wide, and the fireball only singed the beast before slamming into a large tree, causing it to burst into flame. The air suddenly stank of burnt hair. The tiger roared with fury and abandoned Hagrid to renew his attack on the young wizard. Harry tried to mouth the words for another spell through his agony, but he was becoming dizzy, and everything was starting to go dark around him. The tiger bore into him mercilessly, flaying flesh from his bones and spraying warm blood all over the forest floor. Harry could feel his fluttering heart desperately squeezing blood through gored arteries, and he had one final, astonished thought before the darkness overtook him.

"But… I'm the chosen one…"

Luna's ears burned with shame. She hadn't meant to admit _that_, but rules were rules. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron all stared at her with astonishment.

"Luna!" Ginny cried. "I _never_ would have guessed!"

"We _eat_ on that table!" Hermione groaned.

Classes were over, finals were final, and most of the students and faculty at Hogwarts had already left for home. Only a few people were still on campus, either wanting to spend a few extra days away from their families, or finishing up late coursework before final grades were submitted to the administration. The five friends had stayed on campus late, wanting to have some free time to socialize before going home for the summer. Little did they know that their idle fun would turn into a massacre. Luna lit another joint, hoping the marijuana would encourage her friends to forget her most recent confession.

"Your turn, Ron," Luna said, sparking the joint and taking a big drag.

"Truth," Ron answered confidently.

Hermione asked with a giggle, "When was the last time you ate a booger?"

Ron looked furtive.

"Come on," Ginny urged. "We told you ours."

Ron reddened before admitting, "Yesterday."

The three girls responded in unison, "_Ewwwww_!"

Draco Malfoy was doing a shit when the tiger attacked. He was angrily jabbing the touchscreen on his Nokia Lumia 920 smartphone powered by Windows 8 with his finger. The Nikkei was red another four hundred and twenty points, the fourth day in a row that the Japanese stock exchange had dropped. Draco lost a small fortune in his investments over the week, and his father would be furious with him when he returned to the estate. The young Slytherin cursed in fluent Latin, damning his family, damning his House, and damning the entire world to eternal hellfire. To make matters worse, the poo just wasn't coming. He'd managed to squeeze a few sad nuggets of rancid smelling shit into the toilet bowl but there was still something up there clogging the pipes. He was astonished when the door to the stall suddenly came crashing down on top of him and he found himself face to face with a superpowered tiger. He didn't even have a chance to scream before the tiger tore open his throat with a deft swipe of its claws.

The turds floated, unflushed, in the blood splattered toilet.

"Dare," Luna said boldly.

Ron grinned broadly. "I dare you to take off your clothes and run through the Great Hall in only your underwear."

Hermione gasped, but Luna paused and then giggled with delight. She'd wanted to do that ever since she first saw the huge, unbelievably grand room, and now she had a golden opportunity. Without hesitation she stripped off her blouse and skirt, revealing a stylish black bra and black thong panties. Ron leered openly at her shapely body, and even Ginny kept stealing interested glances. Without waiting another instant, Luna tore out of the room and headed for the Great Hall. The three remaining students looked at one another, hoping she wouldn't get caught and blab about their recent activities to the headmaster.

"I think I need some air," Hermione said.

Ron shrugged. "Hokay."

Hermione stood up uncertainly, and slowly walked upstairs to a balcony overlooking the wide terrain surrounding Hogwarts. It was a beautiful country, and zodiacal light illuminated the plains, woods, and mountain with an ethereal glow. High as balls, Hermione sighed in utter contentment. She watched the clouds lazily roll overhead for what seemed to be an eternity. Then, she heard a mysterious growl behind her. She turned and found herself face to face with a monster.

Well, she'd been warned about this, hadn't she? When she was younger she'd been strongly cautioned against the use of marijuana, and now, here were the dreadful hallucinations that her parents and teachers had threatened her with. She cocked her head at the tiger, whose bloody muzzle was still dripping flesh torn from Draco's body. She decided to confront the illusion head-on.

"You're not so scary," she told the beast.

The tiger looked at her, momentarily confused. Was this girl retarded or something?

Hermione giggled. "You're just a big ol' kitty! Roar!"

The tiger inwardly shrugged and then lunged at the idiot girl. Hermione managed a choked shout, suddenly cut off, before the tiger ruthlessly shredded her body with flashes of tooth and claw. Without even bothering to take a bite, the tiger nosed Hermione's still-breathing body off the side of Hogwarts castle. She plummeted scores of feet down the side of the great building to her wet, thudding death.

At the same time, Luna ran shamelessly through the Great Hall, eliciting gasps from the sleepy ghosts who were just settling in for a long summer of rest and grave relaxation. The girl giggled. She loved acting weird for attention, and this was just another opportunity to cause the kind of fuss she so desperately craved. Still, she was fairly confident the ghosts wouldn't tattle; nobody likes a narc, even in the afterlife. Luna luxuriated in the scandal and bounced her breasts with her hands for added effect.

"Luna!" hissed Helena Ravenclaw, the legendary Grey Lady. "Look out! Look out, damn it!"

Luna just turned to the ghost and stuck out her tongue.

"Oh, bugger off, Old Lady! You're just jealous of living girls who can still have any fun."

"There's a tiger right behind you!" Helena cried.

Luna stopped and giggled.

"A tiger? Yeah right. You didn't really expect me to _believe_ that, did you? If you're going to tattle on me to the headmaster just do it and _spare_ me the dramatics."

"Luna!" the Grey Lady insisted, but it was too late.

The rogue tiger pounced, and sent Luna screaming to the floor. Without even her robes to protect her from the tiger's searching claws, it made quick work of the girl, tearing open her chest with the strength of a dozen normal tigers. Her platinum blonde hair was smeared full of blood, and she quickly lost consciousness, becoming a helpless plaything in the paws of one of the British military's most fiendish experiments.

"I told you so," the Grey Lady primly announced.

Luna grimaced and looked down at her own body, which the tiger was still mauling to unidentifyability. Then she peered at her luminous hands.

"I'm… a ghost?" Luna asked, befuddled.

"And a very naughty ghost," Helena Ravenclaw answered, gesturing at the girl's still mostly unclothed apparition. "Now you're going to be stuck like that for all eternity. I hope you're happy with yourself."

Back in the dormitory, Ginny and Ron were making out, in that experimental way of teenagers, trying to discover if they had any attraction to one another. They quickly drew apart and searched one another's eyes.

"Nope," Ginny announced. "Not a thing. I may as well have been kissing a wall."

"We could double-check?" Ron suggested hopefully.

"Nothing doing!"

The awkward tableau was broken by a nearby roar. Ron and Ginny looked at one another, eyes wide with concern.

"What was that!?" Ron demanded.

"It sounded close."

The pair cautiously exited from Luna's room, and looked up and down the hallway. They couldn't find the source of the voluminous roar. The two carefully snuck down the corridor, quietly putting one foot in front of the other. Ron watched their backs while Ginny advanced.

"Where's Luna?" Ron whispered.

Ginny added, "And Hermione."

"Let's go see if Luna's still in the Great Hall," Ron hissed.

They crept carefully down the stairs, trying not to stir the various agitated spirits. Suddenly, Ginny caught sight of a bloody, crumpled heap on the floor of the Great Hall. She screamed. The sound reverberated through the cavernous chamber.

"Luna!" Ron shouted, rushing to the body.

Luna sighed.

"I'm right here, Ron," she said, materializing in front of him.

The two stared at her.

"L-Luna!" Ginny cried. "What happened to you!?"

Embarrassed, Luna covered her cleavage with her right hand. "There are tigers on the loose! You have to watch out!"

"Tigers!?" Ron demanded.

"Where'd they go?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know," Luna admitted.

She glanced at her own mutilated corpse, and added, "I was a bit distracted at the time."

"We have to get out of here," Ron insisted. "Luna… since you're… you know, already dead, and all, can you scout ahead for us and make sure it's safe?"

Luna shifted uncomfortably in midair, and sighed. "Yeah, sure. It doesn't matter now I guess."

So the three cautiously advanced towards the main foyer of Hogwarts castle. Ron couldn't resist the gravitational pull that Luna's ass held on his eyes, and he stared hypnotically as the girl floated ahead of them, looking around for signs of the tigers. They heard a distant rumbling purr, and Ginny unconsciously sidled up close to Ron. Filled with fright, the pair intertwined their hands, and drew their wands and held them at the ready.

Luna suddenly cried, "Behind you!"

Sure enough, one of the tigers had carefully crept up behind them as they advanced towards the Great Hall foyer. Already panicked, Ginny reacted immediately.

"Expulso!" the girl cried.

A burst of energy erupted from her wand and struck the tiger dead-on. It got an uncomfortable look on its face, as if it were experiencing a terrible case of gas, and then exploded. Chunks of raw tiger meat and blood splattered Ron and Ginny, who watched the scene unfold with utter astonishment.

"Another one!" Luna tried to warn.

It was too late. Stunned from the strangeness of the scene and the massive internal detonation of the genetically engineered supertiger, they were too slow to face the threats flanking them from the sides. Not limited to merely superior strength and aggression, the tigers were also preternaturally intelligent, and two more had crept up beside the pair while they faced down the one sneaking up behind them. Even Luna didn't notice the one on Ginny's left. Ron managed to cast Impedimenta at the tiger on his right, but he was knocked to the ground with Ginny when the tiger on their left pounced. The pair writhed under the monster's deadly claws while they tried to free their wands for another cast. The second tiger struggled against the effects of the Impedimenta spell, padding forward slowly but surely through the tangling magic. A few more errant bolts of magic blew chunks off the Great Hall's pillars, but the pair were unable to effectively defend themselves against the monstrous beasts. A minute later, Ron and Ginny joined Luna.

"Well, that's a fine pickle we're in, all right," Luna said, shaking her head at her glowing, ghostly friends.


End file.
